


In the Morning Light

by AmyriadfthINGs



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Early Mornings, Fluff, M/M, Morning After, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 03:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13696122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyriadfthINGs/pseuds/AmyriadfthINGs
Summary: Morning after.





	In the Morning Light

**Author's Note:**

> Technically, this comes after something I still haven't finished. Bear with me.

John is the first one to wake up the next morning. 

Thomas and Flint (James, he reminds himself. It's like meeting a whole new person) are entangled next to him, facing him, their limbs still with sleep, their features at peace. John has rarely seen Flint like this. Maybe never. Unconsciousness doesn't count.

Birdsong woke him up, probably because it's still new to him, having spent all of three days at their house. 

He feels no particular urge to get up, except that he's hungry. 

He decides to let the two of them rest a while longer, as long as they will take, and to go whip up some food for them all. 

On his way to find his clothes, scattered haphazardly among the others' on the bedroom floor, he stops by the open window, drawn in by a fine play of light. 

The back garden glistens with dew in the first milky rays of the rising sun. 

Standing at the window sill and looking out, John hears someone shift on the bed and then sit up with a soft grunt. He can hear a kiss being pressed on the other person, and then light footfalls padding up to him. 

A strong hand goes to the nape of his neck, squeezes, then runs down his shoulder blade and his bare back. 

John turns halfway towards Flint and leans into his shoulder as a way of greeting. 

"I was going to make breakfast, " Silver says. 

"Mhm, " Flint affirms the idea. 

"It's a beautiful place you've made for yourselves, " Silver adds quietly after a moment. 

Flint looks down and nods, sleepy smile hidden in his beard. 

The pale early light plays on the reds in it, and John can't quite seem to look away. 

Flint catches him staring.

"Breakfast?" Flint asks with a twinkle in his eye, John thinks, or maybe it's just a trick of light. 

"How about we make some and serve Thomas in bed," he suggests, quickly recovering. 

Flint gives another affirmative grunt and they head to the kitchen.


End file.
